1. When I was little, my mother told me that my ribs are there to protect my heart. It turns out you can break ribs pretty easily. They shatter the second you press too hard or meet a boy with pretty eyes who leaves your skin burning and kisses your neck. My heart is not in very good condition.
2. My freshman year of high school I read this book over and over again. I remember one line talked about how love can save you. The author forgot to mention that it can also tear you apart and fuck you up beyond repair.
3. I broke my fingers trying to pick the lock to your heart.
4. Apparently vodka isn’t the solution to everything because after the fifth shot, the only word I managed to slur was your name.
5. You know those dumb depression commercials where they show some women and there’s a black cloud following her around and it gets bigger and bigger and swallows her whole until she finally takes some fucking medication? You’re my cloud. You’re hanging over my head and swallowing me whole but pills won’t make you go away, trust me, I’ve tried.
6. It turns out words can physically hurt. They can leave you clutching at your chest and shaking. They can leave you empty. They can twist around your body and cut off your blood circulation. I learned that when you told me you didn’t love me anymore.
7. I’m not yours anymore but god I wish I was.
8. Things fall apart. Things get messy. Most of the time you can put them back together but sometimes pieces get lost and you sit there puncturing your chest with little bits of yourself but nothing fits right and suddenly there’s blood everywhere.
9. Nervous breakdowns aren’t cute.
10. Boys don’t kiss you because they love you. They kiss you because they want to taste you. I hope I’m still on the tip of your tongue. I’d do anything to get you off of mine.
11. Heartbreak is not beautiful. It’s not tasting him in your cigarettes or empty beds in lovely little hotels. It’s not rainy afternoons where the air wraps around you the way he did or cups of coffee the color of his eyes. It’s just a lot of shaking and crying and hyperventilating and blood.
12. When the fuck does it stop hurting?❞
12 texts I never sent (via extrasad)
well this hit me like a ton of bricks
Hysterical Literature; reading with a vibrator.
I usually don’t reblog anything but this is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. This is way better than porn… •_•
I really should do this for my next audio post….but I think I’ll seriously start giggling not be able to stop.
this is on my to do list
This is literally priceless
Oh queer latin@s are the best ;)
I’ve been in bed sick all day watching TV about mixed people who hate one side of their race and documentaries of black culture in Latin-America so it forced me to go on a rant.
Any of my afro-latinas live in the south? Please tell me how you deal w/ some of the shall I say “racism”? I’ve lived in New York up until I was about 10 where being an Afro-Latina is very common but then moved to the south but let me tell you guys, from personal experience it’s APPARENTLY out of the norm for a person of “color” or someone that looks black to speak Spanish in the south (unless you live in FLORIDA) lol. But most people don’t get me, they don’t believe I’m a woman of Spanish decent b/c of my skin. It’s not light enough to be considered “hispanic” and my hair isn’t fine enough to be considered “hispanic”, But when people read my last name it’s always “are you mixed?, you look black but you don’t have a black last name” or “how can you speak/understand Spanish? you must have been really good in Spanish class” It irritates me but I’m quick to not punch someone but I’ll correct them and say “I’m Dominican and black” I will never deny that I am INDEED a black woman. and there’s nothing wrong w/ that. OBVIOUSLY I’m black, I have African roots, I mean look at me. But I am also Latina. Not one, not the other but both.